


What He Needs

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, F/M, Gore, Injury, M/F, Marking, NSFW text, Oral, Reader Insert, Restraint, Riding Crop, Smut, Sub!Dean, Submissive, Teasing, dom!reader, sub/dom, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 14:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7466148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid’s Toys Challenge (for which I had riding crop) and also for @faith-in-dean and @for-the-love-of-dean’s July Saints And Sinners challenge, for which I had praise kink. Dean’s always needed that extra release in his life, and luckily for him, he’s got a reliable friend who is always willing to help out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What He Needs

The knock at your door wasn’t expected, and you put your book down, momentarily interrupting your journey through the Seven Kingdoms to get up from your chair. Your bare feet padded along the floor as you headed for the front door to your modest apartment, pausing by the small table in the hallway to pull the pistol from its small drawer. Checking it was loaded, you gave a cursory irritated glance at the door, when your surprise guest knocked again, the sound a little too impatient for your liking.

Stepping close, you made sure the chain was on, before opening the door enough to see the person on the other side. Immediately, your hand holding your gun relaxed and you shut the door again, removing the chain, and opening the door fully.

Dean was panting, leaning against the door frame with one hand, whilst the other clutched at a spreading blood stain on his shirt.

‘Hey, Y/N.’ He rasped, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile. ‘Sorry I didn’t call, I was a little busy.’

‘Shit, Dean.’ You reached forward, across the salt line buried under your front step, and Dean let you shoulder his weight for a few seconds as you helped him across the threshold. ‘What the hell happened?’

‘Just a little ghoul problem. All taken care of now.’ He chuckled, the noise spluttering out into a wet cough. ‘Douche caught me right between the ribs with a knife before I set him on fire.’

That explained the smokey smell surrounding him. You kicked your front door shut with your foot, helping Dean towards your sitting room, easing him down to lay across the couch. His eyes went to the book and glass of wine, and he smirked.

‘Did I interrupt an exciting evening?’ He asked, and you smiled.

‘Nothing I can’t return to another night. You’re here now. Nothing more exciting than that.’

‘Shit, that hurts.’ He arched his head back as you peeled his shirt upwards, inspecting his wound. You’d been in the field a long time before dropping out. Losing too many people was the final straw for you and after Bobby had gone, you were done. Watching friends die, with little to no recompense for their sacrifice, was too much to bear any more.

There were certain aspects of the life you couldn’t give up, no matter how much you tried.

Researching was one - there were a few monsters no one knew better than you. You kept in touch with hunters across the board, and having known Dean, and his brother, for nearly ten years, you weren’t about to turn your back on them when they needed help. To the outside world, you were a simple gal with a little apartment in a small town where everyone knew everyone. You went to work at a local office, kept to yourself and never got involved in anything underhanded.

They didn’t know anything about you really. They knew nothing about the horrific things you’d seen, the corpses and monsters, the blood on your hands and the people you’d failed to save. They didn’t know about this arrangement you had with Dean, how you were the only person he trusted to give him what he needed whenever the life got too much.

‘This is gonna need stitches. Doesn’t look like they kebabed any of your organs though. It’s just bleeding a lot.’ You pushed his shirt up a little further. ‘I hate to tell you this, but I’m gonna need you to take all these top layers off.’

‘You tryin’ to get me naked?’ Dean smirked, pushing up a little on his elbows, despite the obvious pain it caused him.

‘Like it would take much trying.’ You pointed out, smiling despite the blood slowly dripping onto your couch. It wouldn’t be the first stain you’d steam cleaned out of the damn thing. ‘Get your coat and shirt off. And take the knife out of your boot before you slice an artery.’

Dean huffed, slowly sitting up to undress himself as you darted to the bathroom and grabbed your medical kit from under the sink. ‘You make it sound like I come here for one thing only, sweetheart. And I swear, I put it in there properly this time.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Get it out anyway. You don’t need it here, remember?’ You emerged from the bathroom with your kit, looking at him expectantly as he finally reached down and yanked the knife from his boot, placing it on the table. Every time he came here, unannounced, he was armed, and usually carrying a new wound from a hunt you didn’t want to hear about.

He didn’t say anything else as you grabbed a bottle of Johnny and sat down beside him, moving his bloodied shirt and coat out of the way, making a mental note to get some Biotex on them before the stain sank in. Quietly, you went to work, cleaning and suturing the wound on his side, not paying any attention as he drank the whiskey down like it held all of life’s answers.

‘You’re okay if I stay a couple days? Just until this is sealed up?’ Dean’s voice was quiet as he made the request, as if he thought in a million years you would say no. ‘I know you got work, but…’

‘It’s fine.’ You smiled, not looking at him as you tied off the final stitch, giving it a wipe with some antibacterial agent. ‘You know you’re welcome here whenever you need.’ He smiled, reaching out to catch your hand as you packed away the contents of the medical kit and cleared away the bloodied gauze. His thumb swiped over the vein on your wrist, and you flicked your eyes up to meet his, shaking your head. ‘You’re in no shape for that tonight, buddy.’

Dean chuckled, releasing your hand. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ A yawn split mouth before he’d barely finished speaking, and you patted the top of his leg, careful not to let your eyes linger on any part of him too long.

‘You need to sleep, Dean. Heal. We’ll talk in the morning.’

He nodded, not even fighting you as you stood up and cleared away the medical kit, putting his bloody clothes in the laundry room. By the time you’d gotten the fabric into soak, the blood raising out thanks to your chemical expertise, Dean was snoring softly on the couch, one arm slung over his eyes. You watched him for a second, before heading into the kitchen and filling him a glass of water, replacing the bottle of Johnny with what you knew he’d want in the morning.

Turning the light off, you grabbed your glass of wine and your book, slinking away to your bedroom to finish reading in peace.

*****

You were up and out before Dean was awake the next day. Slugging through eight hours at the office was made even slower by your consideration of the fact that you were half expecting him to be gone when you got back. He wasn’t one to shy away from a hunt, and you had no idea where his taller half was. If Sam called, Dean would run; there was no doubt about that.

Walking home through town, you were trapped in your own little world, going through the motions as you said “hello” and “good day” to the usual people, stopping in the bakery to pick up fresh cinnamon rolls for afters.

The pleasant surprise of seeing the Impala stilled parked outside your apartment took you by shock, and you quickly let yourself into the building, wondering briefly how long it had taken Dean to pick the lock last night with the state he’d been in.

As you reached your apartment door, you grabbed your post from the box, slipping inside, and hanging up your jacket and bag. Dean wasn’t on the couch, and you noted that he’d hung up your laundry, and his, on the clothes horse at the other side of the room. He’d opened the window to let in some air, and everything from the night before was tidied away. You smiled softly, knowing that one thing Dean always left at the door was his slovenly ways - you never appreciated the mess. It wasn’t unfair to say you’d once demanded he treat your home like his, and by that, of course, you mean the sleek black beauty in your driveway.

The low hum of your electric shower, and Dean’s off key singing to Metallica reached your ears and you looked in the direction of the bathroom. The door was ajar, and you peeked through, seeing the silhouette of Dean’s naked body against the glass door of the cubicle.

‘Build my fear of what’s out there, cannot breathe the open air, whisper things in my brain -’ The door creaked where you leaned on it, and Dean turned, using his hand to swipe the condensation from the glass. ‘Hey, Y/N.’

You blushed, smiling in his direction. ‘Hey yourself. I see you’re feeling better.’

‘Not a whole bunch a good night’s sleep and a hot shower with perfect water pressure can’t do.’ He grinned. ‘Plus, you know, the world’s best nurse.’ He rubbed his hands together, creating more suds, and your eyes dropped, seeing his very hard outline through the glass. ‘You wanna join me?’

Your lips twisted and you shook your head. ‘Tell you what, Hetfield, why don’t you finish up and join me in the bedroom? I got something I wanna show you.’ Dean’s eyebrows quirked, a thick bubble of subs running down his forehead and you giggled, shutting the door. You entered your bedroom, realising exactly what a mess it had been in, and quickly tidied up, turning the sidelamps on and switching the main light off.

As you were bending over putting your socks back in the drawers, the shower turned off and Dean walked in, dripping wet, with possibly the smallest towel he could find barely wrapped around his waist.

‘I was really hoping you’d be naked.’ He muttered, closing the door and approaching you from behind. You straightened and turned, bumping into him as he dropped the towel, grasping your face with his big hands. ‘Fuck, I missed you.’

You couldn’t help the dopey smile on your face as you leaned into his touch, not complaining when he pressed his lips to yours. He was already hard, his cock rubbing against your pencil skirt as he bent his knees a little in his effort to claim your lips. It was a brief touch, and you pulled back, looking down at his abdomen, your fingertips playing over the wound you’d stitched up less than twenty four hours previous.

‘It’s okay.’ His hand covered yours. ‘I’m healing. And it takes more to hold me down.’ He smirked, his other hand stroking your cheek. ‘I really did miss you.’

You sighed happily. ‘Missed you too. But I get the life, you know that.’

Dean chuckled. ‘One of the best thing about you, sweetheart. You do get it. And you don’t press me for more.’ He looked around. ‘You said you had to show me something.’ You nodded. ‘Well?’

‘I got something new. If…you know…you’re up for it?’

His eyes took on that funny light, as if he’d been told he could pick any sweet in the shop and he bobbed his head enthusiastically. Turning away from him, you scrambled to the side of the bed, looking underneath for the small chest you kept there. You pulled the wrong one out by accident, which was full of knives and guns, and Dean made a funny noise behind you.

‘I’m kinky. Not that kinky.’

You shook your head, pushing that chest back under the bed as you pulled the correct one out. ‘This is it.’ You hefted it upwards onto the dressing table next to your bed, opening it. Pulling out the newest acquisition, you held it out for Dean’s inspection.

‘You got it.’ He whispered, taking it, measuring the weight of it in his hands. ‘I didn’t think you’d get it. You sounded like you were kidding.’

‘Well, you sounded like you were serious.’ You pointed, and Dean smiled.

‘I was.’

‘Do you…feel up to it?’ You asked, a little hesitant, not wanting to work yourself up for nothing, but Dean was obviously interested. His cock was leaking precum, bobbing where he stood, gloriously naked in your bedroom, and you smiled as he nodded.

‘You know I do. Fuck, I’ve needed it.’ He put the crop down on the bed, moving closer, pulling you into another hard kiss. ‘Needed you.’

‘You know the rules, Dean.’ Your words were gasped against his lips and he whined pitifully, breaking away. ‘You got a colour for me, baby?’

‘Green.’ He exhaled the word like a prayer, and you pushed him backwards lightly onto the bed. ‘So green, princess.’

‘Not your princess tonight, Dean.’

His eyes were almost black with lust as he laid on the bed, watching you circle him. ‘Yes, Mistress.’

You grinned, stripping down to your matching black lace and satin underwear. ‘Good boy.’ The praise didn’t go unnoticed as Dean’s cock twitched, his mouth quirking at the same time. You picked up the leather cuffs from the chest, walking around the bed, deciding how best to secure him. ‘I’m gonna tie you at four corners.’ You said, not giving any allowance for arguments. ‘Colour?’

‘Green, Mistress.’

Without speaking, you tied him down, making sure the padded leather cuffs were not biting into his wrists. Dean kept quiet, not moving an inch as you went about your preparations, tying your hair back into a high ponytail. Looking at the chest, you contemplated your options, deciding to put the rest of the box away, leaving only the crop out.

‘I’ll let you choose tonight, baby.’ You picked up the crop, trailing it down his right thigh, feeling the bump of a scar where he’d fought a Wendigo years ago. He’d told that tale to you before. ‘Do you wanna use protection this time?’ Dean’s eyes met yours, but he didn’t speak, and you smiled. ‘I’m still on birth control from last time you visited.’

The last thing you wanted in this life was children. It was difficult to reconcile wanting a family with knowing what was waiting in the dark with them.

‘Without.’ Dean croaked, and you smiled.

‘Hmmm. I do love feeling you come inside me, pretty boy.’ A visible shiver ran through him and you switched the crop over to the other leg. ‘You green, baby?’ He nodded, keeping his eyes on you as you moved around.

Testing the waters, you brought the crop down on his thigh, leaving a thin red line and Dean whimpered, his nipples hardening in the cool air of your bedroom. You smiled, bringing it down again, just a few inches closer to his knee, and his body jerked a little, precum beading at the tip of his cock and slowly rolling down the length of his cock, stopping where it rested against his lower belly.

‘You’ve got such a handsome cock, baby.’ You whispered. ‘So good for me, staying still and quiet, even when I’m marking you up like this.’ He didn’t reply, knowing the rules, and you felt a wash of pleasure come over you at the control you held.

In ten years, no one had submitted to you like Dean did. A one night stand and a drunken conversation between the two of you had led to something more, and four or five times a year, this situation would come about. You couldn’t deny that you loved the green eyed hunter, but you’d vowed that settling down in this life was never a good idea, even if you were out. Marriage, children, the white picket fence with a dog - not your style. You liked your own space, and you were the first to admit you were a nightmare to live with.

The unconventional relationship between you and Dean worked. He didn’t want to be tied down, and you didn’t want anything more than you had. It was a strange kind of love, and one he’d never admit to reciprocating, but he was happy enough to accept your affection and return it in his own way.

You brought the whip down again on the same thigh, leaving a third red stripe across his leg. Dean’s small cry of pleasure made you shudder, your arousal pooling in your panties. Leaning down, you ran your tongue over one of your marks on his leg, and you heard him strain his wrists against the bonds.

‘Dean.’ You warned. ‘Behave. I won’t let you come.’

‘I’m sorry, Mistress.’ He rasped. ‘It just…feels so good.’

A smirk pulled at your lips, and you stood straight again. ‘Then you should say thank you when I’m done.’ He groaned, and your smile only widened. Raising the crop once more, you brought it down, leaving a fourth mark on his left thigh. ‘Well?’ You prompted.

‘Thank you, Mistress.’ Dean grunted, his skin flushed and fingers twitching. His cock was throbbing, the tip an angry red and slick with precum.

‘Don’t be ruining this too soon, Dean. Be a good boy, and don’t come until I say.’ You trailed the crop up further and ran the tip along his generous length, watching his face screw up in concentration. ‘At least you didn’t break the rules and jerk off in the shower.’

‘I didn’t, Mistress.’

‘Saving yourself for me?’ You gasped in mock pleasure. ‘Such a well behaved little submissive, Dean.’

He whined again, the noise sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your core. ‘Thank you, Mistress.’ You dragged the tip of the crop down his cock again, not stopping as it trailed his balls, and you watched his sac tense in response to the touch. Walking around the bottom of the bed, you turned your attention to his right thigh, bringing the crop down to leave matching marks on that side. After every stroke, Dean repeated the same words.

‘Thank you, Mistress.’

You ran your eyes over your handiwork, feeling your own arousal pounding through your veins, and you stripped swiftly, climbing onto the bed. Carefully, you straddled him, pinning the length of his cock against your already soaked slit. Dean whined low in his throat, and you looked down at him, trying to keep your expression neutral, resisting your own urge to rub against him and get you both off.

The crop felt heavy in your hand as you pressed it into his chest, rubbing it around his nipples, enjoying the noises he made as you purposely scraped the hard edge along his sensitive chest. When his noises increased, you brought the crop down, hitting him directly over his anti-possession tattoo, and he went silent.

‘You’re too noisy, pretty boy.’

‘I’m sorry, Mistress.’

You smiled. ‘I’m going to cum. And you’re going to feel it. Wanna feel me gush over your thick cock, baby?’

Dean swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did, and he nodded, remembering himself a split second after the action. ‘Yes, Mistress.’

Your hips moved forward slightly, and a hiss escaped the man underneath you, before he managed to rein in his reaction. You kept moving, grinding against him, far enough to let his cock brush against your clit. It was already sensitive and you were so on edge from watching Dean under the crop that you knew it wouldn’t take much to bring yourself over into bliss.

‘You like this, pretty boy?’ You gasped the words, bringing the crop down on Dean’s upper torso, leaving red welts wherever you landed it. He nodded, his hands straining at the cuffs again, and you stopped abruptly, panting with the exertion of holding back your own orgasm. ‘Dean?’

‘I’m green. Green.’ He panted. ‘I’m sorry, Mistress. Just so hard not to cum when you’re doing that.’ Dean was red in the face as he spoke, but kept his eyes on yours, the green sparkling with unbridled lust.

‘If this is too much…’ You stopped as he shook his head vehemently.

‘No, I’m green, I promise, please…’ He looked so sincere as he maintained eye contact with you. ‘Don’t stop, Mistress.’

You hesitated, before moving against him once more, stopping with the crop for a few moments as you enjoyed the friction between your bodies. Your clit rubbed against the thick head of his cock and you moaned loudly, closing your eyes and throwing your head back as you used Dean’s body to push yourself forward. The orgasm was small and flowed through your body like fire on the ocean, leaving you sweating and panting on top of the hunter underneath you.

‘Are you okay, Mistress?’ Dean’s question was breathless and you could feel the heat of him trapped below your sticky thighs. Slowly, you opened your eyes and looked down at him, smiling wickedly.

‘I think…you should clean me up, pretty boy.’ You leaned forward, tracing the crop over his full, sinful lips. ‘If you do a good enough job, maybe I will ride you like the good boy you are.’ His body vibrated with the praise, and he nodded enthusiastically.

You crawled up his body carefully, making sure to avoid the wound you’d stitched, until your thighs were on his chest. His wrists twisted in the cuffs, and you knew he wanted to hold you against his mouth, just like he had done before. If there was one thing Dean excelled at, it was eating pussy, and you made sure to utilise that ability at every opportunity.

‘Mistress…’ He gasped, straining his neck forward, almost desperate for your cunt on his tongue.

‘Yes, pretty boy?’ You trailed the crop behind you, letting it brush over his twitching cock. ‘What do you want?’

‘Want…want to taste you, Mistress.’ Dean begged, and you smiled.

‘You are such a good boy, Dean. Always so eager to please me.’ He nodded, and you shifted forward a little. ‘Show me what you can do with that wicked tongue of yours?’ He didn’t answer with words, letting his tongue trace your slick folds as you let the crop come down on his stomach, almost as if you were riding his face. With every stroke of the crop against his side, Dean licked harder, cleaning you of your juices, before thrusting his tongue into your clenching hole. The thick organ felt like heaven, and Dean knew exactly what to do as you squirmed on his face, your concentration distorted by his touch.

You surrendered easily to Dean’s ministrations, losing yourself in the feel of his tongue on your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit, and the crop heavy in your hand. He twitched with every jerk of the crop on his skin, and his whimpers vibrated against your sensitive skin.

Your second orgasm was high on the tails of the first, and you cried out Dean’s name, prompting him to work harder at your flesh, drawing out every last drop of your climax and licking you clean as you shivered through the come-down.

‘Dean…fuck, you’re so good at that, baby.’ You purred, pulling back, legs a little shaky as you did so. Dean lurched out of concern for your balance, and you pushed him back down with one palm. ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just a little…buzzed.’

‘Good, Mistress.’ The relief on his face was palpable, and he groaned as you knelt beside him, leaning over to kiss him softly.

‘Colour?’

‘I’m green, Mistress.’ He whispered, pushing up to try and claim your lips. You pulled away, dropping the crop to the floor. You swung your leg over his hips, using one hand to position him at your entrance, sinking down slowly as he groaned loudly.

‘Colour.’

‘Very green, Mistress.’ Dean’s voice was strained, and you smiled at your control, slowly lifting up before slamming down, taking his full length into your body. The tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, filling you widely like you’d only ever felt with him.

‘You’re so good, Dean, so hard and thick for me.’ You kept the pace, watching his face tighten in pleasure, his cock twitching and swelling inside you. ‘The way you eat me out, such a good boy, so pretty to look at, so good to fuck.’

‘Yes, Mistress -’ He groaned the words, his hands going red as he pulled at the cuffs, his hips bucking upwards uncontrollably.

You urged him on, knowing his orgasm was imminent and knowing he couldn’t hold back any longer. Your inner walls tightened around him, and he whined loudly, the noise so sweetly submissive that you couldn’t help yourself, reaching around to massage his sac as you rode him into bliss. ‘You can come, Dean. Come for me, and fill me up, pretty boy.’

He didn’t answer, his cry spilling from his lips in time with his orgasm, his hips jerking widely as he finished, panting heavily. You let your body go lax, curling into him for a few moments and listening to his raging heart beat.

When your own breathing evened out, you climbed off of his prone form, walking around the bed and freeing his ankles and wrists, before grabbing the baby wipes you kept by the bed, cleaning him up softly. He was still panting, still stuck in that subspace, and you laid beside him, pulling the covers over both of you, keeping your hands on him. Dean preferred contact after a session, even a short one, and he needed to feel safe.

‘You’re so beautiful, Dean.’ You whispered, pressing kisses to his temples and cheeks, stroking his face with your hands before moving down to his chest. ‘So good for me.’ You nuzzled the spot behind his ear and he groaned pleasantly, opening his eyes to look at you.

‘Thank you, sweetheart.’ He whispered, slowly moving his arm around your shoulders. ‘For that and everything else.’

You smiled, sinking into his embrace, knowing he was sated and feeling your own satisfaction deep in your bones. ‘You know I love you, right?’

Dean smiled widely, kissing the top of your head as he held you close. ‘Wouldn’t have it any other way.’


End file.
